


In the dark of the night

by thp_cara (TheHolosexualPan)



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, The Weight Of Lies (Hermitcraft)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Just a bit because they missed each other, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Missing Scene, Multi, Sleepy Cuddles, Spooning, anygay, bb said he visited impulse too and i went heart eyes, d'awww, i guess lmao, no i have no idea what Zed's role is in the bigger story so :P, what is with me and the sleepy cuddles man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHolosexualPan/pseuds/thp_cara
Summary: Staying neutral during this whole war means that Zedaph doesn't get to see much of his boyfriends. He plans to rectify that.
Relationships: Implied Zedaph/Impulse/Tango, impulseSV/Zedaph (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 165





	In the dark of the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BastardBin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardBin/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Weight of Lies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20027974) by [BastardBin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardBin/pseuds/BastardBin). 



> I've only had TWOL Zed for a day, but if anything happened to him, I would yeet everyone in this fandom out of a window and then myself.

By the time Zedaph is almost sure the fighting is done, the moon is already high up in the sky, only a few clouds, thin and vaporous, like threads tangled together uncaringly, breaking up the dark infinity filled with little twinkling stars, and even then, he can only hope that no _individual_ missions might have delayed some of the Team Star members, but he isn't a combatant, so if they _find_ him sneaking about their war base, they shouldn't react all to negatively. And, Zedaph smiles as the thought comes about, he's got a perfectly valid excuse if they question him, despite being neutral. After all, why should they complain if a non-enemy is righting up all of their upside down paintings? Zedaph makes a mental note to thank Joe later, but for now, he is shushing the guardians by cooing at them.

"Oh, you're all just such good boys, aren't you?", he purses his lips, hands on his cheeks as he looks at the dark shapes floating in the water below, only their eerie eyes shining through the darkness. One of them zaps him and after _not_ clinging to the mote's railing and _not_ wheezing like he'd just run a marathon, Zedaph rights himself and lovingly corrects his earlier statement.

"And good girls, how silly of me! You're all just good little fishies, but I have to go now~!", Zedaph waves at them cheerfully, and, though he has to avoid a few more zaps, he makes his way to the entrance of the castle base, eyes wide with amazement at the build. Its sturdiness and the tactical advantages it presents are the obvious focus, but the sheer size of it is impressing, the amount of coordinated manpower needed for such a build already overwhelming to think about. But Zedaph doesn’t linger and, instead, he sneaks inside the building, holding his breath and almost wishing his shadow wouldn’t give him away quite like it does, flickering and elongating with the torchlight, but there’s nothing to be done for it, Zedaph muses as he eyes one of the paintings lining the grandiose stone brick hall, taking it down only to place it back, right side up this time.

Zedaph only rights some of the paintings as he makes his way deeper into the cold, stone castle, trying to use logic in order to figure out where the Star Team members would be sleeping, and he thinks about it as he turns right at a crossroad - er, crosshall? - and he keeps thinking about it as he takes the stairs up, only to find a dead end, and then he tries the lower level, but that yields nothing interesting and, by the time Zedaph reaches another normal looking hallways with entirely too many doors to be practical, at least, for someone with Zedaph’s navigational skills, he is completely and utterly lost.

And that is also when he hears the voices, unclear and eerie with the way the echo against the stone walls, but they are growing progressively louder, _closer_.

With a yelp that Zedaph barely manages to catch in time before it gives him away, his eyes scan the hallway he is in, which looks like all of the other hallways he’s seen from the Team Star base. Zedaph finds another small corridor, darker than the others, almost ominous with its lack of doors, but Zedaph finds it quite appealing, seeing as it might just help him not get caught sneaking about, even if he’s just, well, innocently fixing their paintings. The fact that he had been smart enough to take a night vision potion before setting his plan in motion also makes his stay in the shadowed alcove that much more pleasurable.

The voices now sound as though they are passing right in front of his hallway and Zedaph finally catches more than just the hint of them, he hears actual _words_ now and he can recognise them as they approach, then begin fading away as they continue making their way through the fortress base. Maybe he should have taken and invisibility potion as well, but retrospective thinking doesn’t help right now, not when Ren and Doc are still too close for comfort and seem to have _stopped_ just a few feet away from the entrance to the hallway Zedaph is hiding in, and knowing how keen and attentive both of them are, just a squeak of his shoes would be enough to give him away completely.

“-at were you hoping to _achieve_ back there?”, Ren’s voice rings through the hallways, half-whispered so he doesn’t disturb the silence too much, his partly accusatory, partly baffled tone still shining through, which is very much the opposite of Doc’s response.

“Ren, drop it”, and he speaks like he always does, but the silence makes Doc sound much louder than he probably means to, Zedaph thinks, “It’s none of your business, anyway.”

And Zedaph flinches because that sounds like an inflammatory reply, which Ren doesn’t like, if his next words are anything to go by. However, their voices begin fading again. They’re leaving.

“You’re scaring him, no, actually, you’re _terrifying_ him”, Ren huffs and Zedaph can almost see the disappointed look on his face, so the next few seconds complete and utter speechlessness from Doc are very much understandable.

“There’s method to my madness, you know”, Doc ends up grumbling, and, as Zedaph pushes himself to leave his hidey hole, the fact that two of them have just stopped in the middle of the hallway makes Zedaph’s heart jolt as he screams internally, hoping they don’t turn around right now, because they would probably be quite surprised to see a stock-still Zedaph caught in a compromising, sneaky pose right behind them. He could try to creep back into the corridor that he now knows is a safe haven, but he is afraid that he would just trip and fall, as he usually does when the situation is tense.

“...Method to getting between them? Doc, why are you doing this?”, Ren finally asks with a resigned sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and looking off to the side, though, thankfully, not the side where Zedaph is frozen in place like a particularly awkward statue.

“I have my reasons, but… Now is not the time for this conversation. It’s late”, Doc shrugs, and despite the fact that he attempts a half-hearted smirk, his pose relays something more serious. This must be important, then, but Zedaph doesn’t have the context, so he’s just left grasping at straws, which might just hide a needle amongst themselves.

“I guess...”, Ren admits, face falling, leaving only the obvious exhaustion from a day filled with something more than just playful combat. Well, Zedaph reasons as he stays as still as he possibly can, praying to whatever chaotic entity might be out there, its existence only fueled by the universe’s oh-so-humorous wish to see him stumble and fall his way into a very much stressful situation, that they don’t turn around just yet, if Ren’s words are anything to go by, the two of them must have been involved in something else, especially if it had happened after their ConCorp neutral party had already called it a day, and Zedaph almost wants to put the pieces together in his own mind, but then again, that is a particularly hard feat when he has only the vaguest of ideas of what that puzzle might even look like, let alone who is involved in it. Although, if Doc has been scaring someone, that definitely narrows the pool of who that might be down, seeing as most of them would much rather laugh in Doc’s face and bonk him over the head if he pulls something. Zedaph shakes his head, which isn’t a good idea, because he almost falls as he does so, his stoney pose all too difficult to keep up for much longer. Actually, why is he keeping the pose, as well? He could just… Not move. Well, Zedaph would never claim to be the most reasonable or efficient person he knows, not by a long shot. This almost makes him laugh, tears gathering in his eyes with the effort not to do so.

“C’mon, we’ll discuss this more tomorrow, it’s bedtime”, Doc decides, and it doesn’t sound like a conclusion, it sounds like a question, and Ren nods, almost reluctantly, the two of them finally, _finally_ on the move again. As they approach another junction in the hallways, an idea smacks Zedaph in the face and he has to keep himself from running after them, since he had stupidly waited for them to almost be out of sight already, instead of following them since the beginning. Who would know the way better to the Star Team members’ sleeping quarters than, and Zedaph does a little air drumroll as he almost catches up to them before they disappear behind another wall, Star Team members? He mentally pats himself on the back as, after a few more twists and turns, a few more stairs that seem unnecessary, but Zedaph shouldn’t be throwing rocks from multiple glass houses, Ren and Doc finally disappear behind a large wooden door. He waits for a few more minutes, sneaking up to another downturned painting, which he very kindly turns back around, and admires the pigesque silhouette on it with almost impressed nod. 

When Zedaph is sure that there shouldn’t be any more unexpected visitors lurking around, he tiptoes his way to the doors, turns one of the doorknobs as slowly as he possibly can, which is a bit hard, now, what with a warm feeling, a mix between excitement and something a bit more personal, fluttering just beneath his ribs and making his fingers shake ever so slightly. With a very soft squeak from the not particularly cared for hinges, Zedaph manages to open the door just enough to fit his body through, closing it just as slowly behind him.

The room is nearly black and, had he not had his night vision, which is dwindling now, the colours and artificially intensified lights fading into muted grays before, bit by bit, turning dark again, he might have tripped on his first step and never gotten the chance to even make it to his target. Just before that happens, however, Zedaph studies the array of beds, all spaced out and organised in two neat rows, most of them occupied, except for one and, _ah, that must be why_ , Zedaph concludes as his gaze passes over a lump that seems entirely too big to be only one person. He thinks he knows who they might be, but instead of allowing his thoughts to settle around that little detail while his vision darkens, Zedaph purses his lips and, finally, he see him.

He’s at the other end of the room, a yellow blanket that looks particularly cuddly and, somehow, rough at the same time thrown over him, his arms wrapped around his pillow, leaving his head to hang almost on the edge of the bed. Zedaph feels a small smile form on his lips and heat rises to his cheeks as he starts walking towards Impulse’s bed. Around him, the world gets enveloped by the gloomy tendrils of a room with no lighting and no windows to allow any moonlight inside, but that doesn’t deter Zedaph in his very important quest, one that he’s been planning for the last couple of days, even asking Joe for help and dabbling with potions to make one small bottle of night vision that would definitely aid him, _the quest for some snuggles._

When he reaches the bed, the temptation to just let himself fall on top of Impulse is definitely something that he has to fight off, because, even if he thinks Impulse waking up with a startled squack is funny, that would also probably wake up the rest of the sleeping hermits around them, which wouldn’t be nice and would definitely get Zedaph caught. There are no paintings in this room, after all, so Zedaph pokes Impulse’s cheek instead, lightly, but still impatiently, almost giggling as Impulse pouts in his sleep.

“Impulse, _Impulse_ ”, Zedaph whispers, smile obvious in his voice as the poking develops from light touches into full out jabing of the man’s face, “Impulse, hey, Impulse, Impy, Impulse, hey, _wake up._ ”

Impulse’s face scrunches up and just as Zedaph is about to let a out a victorious cheer, or at least, imagine doing so inside his head because he has to keep quiet, Impulse just turns over with a muffled groan and a hand waving Zedaph off. With a palm on his chest and an offended expression morphing his features into a pout of his own, Zedaph shakes his head with narrowed eyes, already considering abandoning all of his manners and just dousing Impulse with a bucket of water that he does not have, but then, with a soft sigh, Zedaph decides that might be a tad inconsiderate. Also, yeah, he can’t summon a bucket of water out of thin air, sadly. Instead, Zedaph grabs the corners of Impulse’s blanket and pulls it away from his body, but Impulse clings to it and hugs it to his chest, prompting Zedaph to abandon this plan as well. Silly man, if he would just wake up he could be hugging Zedaph instead of the scratchy blanket! And, no, Zedaph doesn’t think he’d like that course of action better just because he’d get some well deserved affection as a result of it, not at all.

 _Desperate times call for desperate measures,_ Zedaph thinks as he allows Impulse his blanket back, a mischievous grin already on his face as his hand hovers just above Impulse’s ribs, fingers wiggling with malicious intent. When he does begin tickling the stubborn man, it is with a jolt that Impulse wakes up, eyes wide open all of a sudden and some sort of startled noise ready to wake up everyone around them, but with a giggle that he manages to reign in at the last moment, Zedaph places a palm over his lover’s mouth, which Impulse finds quite confusing, seeing as he frowns, but then Zedaph remembers that Impulse hadn’t had the benefit of a, fading though it may be, night vision potion.

“Hey, Impy”, Zedaph whispers in greeting, the smile on his face so wide that his cheeks, red with a hot blush, hurt, the giddiness definitely showing in the barely contained urge to just tackle hug Impulse, which might, however, end up making quite a ruckus, so Zedaph abstains.

“Zed…?”, Impulse asks, voice groggy with sleep, when Zedaph moves his hand from over his lips to cup his cheek instead. Zedaph had missed him, he’d missed Impulse _so_ much that the joy of just being near him again, of hearing his voice, which never fails to fluster Zedaph and make his heart beat with a sort of affection that is almost too bright, almost too intense to fathom, takes hold of him with a grip that he doesn’t even attempt to resist. Zedaph nods and he isn’t sure Impulse can see just how happy he looks, isn’t even sure if he just looks like a lovestruck fool, but Zedaph doesn’t care much. He feels the cheeks move beneath his palm, the skin shifting as it is pulled into a smile.

“What are you doing here, Zed?”, Impulse questions softly, but there’s a smile in his voice and Zedaph feels his heart skip an excited beat at that.

“Why, can’t a man just visit his boyfriend?”, Zedaph clicks his tongue and Impulse puffs out an amused breath, but he raises the edge of the blanket that Zedaph had so graciously gifted him back and Zedaph’s blush heats up even more as he, with careful movements, climbs into the bed next to Impulse. He doesn’t _not_ expect the arms that wrap around his middle, hugging him tightly to Impulse’s warm chest, and yet Zedaph still lets out a surprised squeak, having just enough rational thought left to muffle the sound by biting his own tongue. _Ouch,_ Zedaph can’t help but think, but he still circles Impulse’s neck with his own arms as he is pulled into his boyfriend’s lap, both of them sitting up in the bed that is not meant for two people.

“Of course you can, silly”, Impulse breathes into Zedaph’s neck and Zedaph swears he can feel the soft smile on his face, so he nuzzles into Impulse’s shoulder with an almost melancholic sigh, closing his eyes as he breathes his boyfriend’s scent in, redstone, fire, for some reason, and something distinctly Impulse, as he melts into his embrace.

“I missed you”, Zedaph confesses, almost timidly, because he’s not the cheesy one in their relationship, Impulse has definitely got that part covered, and even Tango has some overly sweet nicknames in his arsenal, no, he is usually the one to make them laugh, he’s the goofy one, the ridiculous one, the one that asked _Joe_ to help him sneak into the Star Team base by giving him an excuse to be there in the first place, however odd that excuse may be, but right now, he feels his heart slow down as his body relaxes into the hug. Zedaph doesn’t feel the sting of tears in his eyes, he assures his own mind, but if he did, they would be happy tears, for sure. But he's not going to get teary eyed due to the overwhelming amount of emotion he feels, _he's not._

“Gosh, I... I’m sorry, we’ve just been so caught up with this whole… Situation”, Impulse starts, worry seeping into his tone before Zedaph shushes him softly. He is fully aware that both Impulse and Tango had been in over their heads with all this whole Civil War they have going on, and he doesn’t blame them, he knows that the hermits sometimes need a way to let off steam, and what better way to do that than to have a friendly war over it? Zedaph would have joined the war himself, but for once, it had felt like too much, especially as he had found out his boyfriends were on seperate teams. It didn’t sit right with him, being anything other than a non-combatant. Logically, Zedaph knows that none of this will affect their relationship in the long run, they wouldn’t let it, but he’s made his choice and he _is_ happy with it. But...

But he _still_ misses Impulse and Tango, and his heart beats painfully, as if to attest to that. He had gotten so used to sleeping cuddled up to his lovers that, suddenly, not being able to do that had affected him more than he could have predicted, he had gotten so used to messing about with them, so used to kissing them first thing in the morning, but he still wants to support Tango and Impulse, doesn’t want to drag them out of this community event just because he feels a _little_ lonely.

Maybe Impulse notices how Zedaph retreats into his own head, the way he goes quiet, unmoving, too entangled in his own thoughts and emotions, Impulse has always been observant like that, because he imitates Zedaph’s earlier gesture and cups his cheek, fingers tracing his flushed skin and the edge of his lips, which are still pulled into a, decidedly, more quivery than before, smile, and Zedaph leans into it, turning his face just so, kissing his palm with a soft, barely there touch of his lips, which lingers for a few seconds.

That is, until Impulse pulls them both down to lay into the bed, Zedaph still sitting on top of him, his face buried in Impulse’s sleeping shirt, with Impulse’s hands tracing slow circles against Zedaph’s back. Zedaph sighs as the blanket falls over them both, before pushing himself further up, so he can lean his forehead against Impulse’s and, even in the dark, he can still feel Impulse’s warm, brown eyes on him. 

“No, it’s… It’s fine. Just needed to see you two again, is all”, Zedaph whispers as he narrows the gap between them, exhaling the words against Impulse’s lips.

“I think I’m speaking for the both of us when I say we missed you too”, Impulse replies and Zedaph almost feels weak at the love in his voice. He moves in and their lips brush together, lightly, as he replies.

“I’m gonna go visit Tango, after.”

Impulse nods and smiles once more, removing any remaining space between them and kissing Zedaph gently. It’s just a soft touch, at first, something tender in the kiss they share, something that speaks of longing and adoration in the loving affections between them, but then something shifts, just a little bit. The feeling of lips against lips, of Impulse claiming Zedaph’s mouth in a warm kiss, gently caressing Zedaph’s face as he does so, his free arm tightening around him, it makes Zedaph melt, it makes him whisper something against Impulse’s lips, which Impulse kisses back into silence, pulling Zedaph closer to himself. They part for just a second, breaths mingling and Zedaph can’t help but kiss Impulse’s forehead next, then his cheek, then his chin, then the corner of his mouth, before pecking his lips again, but Impulse pulls him back in. His hand moves to cup Zedaph’s neck as he sighs into the kiss, something like relief saturating the small sound and Zedaph can’t help it when he closes his eyes and shivers. When they part again, it’s only so Impulse can change their position, laying Zedaph next to him, both of them on their sides, facing at each other with tender expressions, legs tangled together and arms wrapped around one another.

“I love you”, Zedaph says, voice just above a whisper due to the weight of the emotion behind those few simple words and Impulse doesn’t even need to answer, the way his arms pull Zedaph even closer, if that is possible, cradling him against Impulse’s warm, broad chest, the blanket adding another layer of warmth to their embrace, speaks volumes to Zedaph, but he does so anyways.

“Me too, Zed. I… I’m really glad you came”, the low words are spoken into Zedaph’s hair, ruffling some of the pale yellow strands, “I missed you too, _so much_.”

This is one of the best ideas Zedaph has ever had, he thinks, as he snuggles himself into Impulse’s arms even further, eyes closed again, and he lets himself be held as he traces the back of one of the hands settled on his side with his thumb, holding it into his own with a gentle grip.

* * *

When Zedaph walks out of the fortress base, a few hours later, he is a bit sleepier than when he first came in, the outside air feeling that much colder against his skin now that he no longer has Impulse’s embrace or a blanket around him, but the thought of seeing his other boyfriend emboldens him to walk across the windy fields between the two bases, hands holding onto something.

If Zedaph had managed to steal one of Impulse’s t-shirts before leaving the Star Team base, then that is nobody’s business except his own, Zedaph reasons with himself, smile set firmly on his face as he hugs the soft material to his chest. He thinks Tango might appreciate it too.

**Author's Note:**

> me, looking at twol zit: _it's free real estate_


End file.
